First Time
by Cursd818
Summary: Spencer takes up Toby's offer in 1x19, but will their relationship survive when everyone turns against them? Spencer/Toby
1. One

**First Time**

**One  
**

**_Summary: Spencer takes up Toby's offer in 1x19._  
**

She'd learned the art of sneaking out from Alison, and for a moment, Spencer experienced a pang of grief for the beautiful girl. Manipulative, cruel, vindictive she may have been, but Alison had been a good friend at the same time. She'd helped Spencer find a little bit of identity away from her family and it was enough to make Spencer love her forever.

The police had finally left. Melissa and Ian had retreated to the barn that Spencer knew she would now never move into, even if she had the opportunity. Her parents were in their room, still awake, discussing her. The feeling of it all had pressed down upon Spencer until she couldn't breathe anymore and had thrown open the window, scratching her hands as she shimmied down the wall and landed on the grass below her window. Loping quietly across the lawn, she reached her car and drove away from the Hastings household without turning on her headlamps. Those only became lit when she was sure she had escaped without notice.

She drove too fast, and the rational side of her brain was screaming danger, but Spencer was too upset to wait. She hadn't even considered going to Emily or Aria or Hanna. They wouldn't understand. There was only one person in Rosewood that would.

Toby opened the door after a few seconds of her banging. He was dressed in the pyjama bottoms from the night before, and his eyes were struggling to stay open. The bed behind him was crumpled from where he'd been asleep upon it only a few moments earlier.

"Spencer?" he squinted at her through the darkness, holding the door open. She rushed past him into the room, feeling safer once she was inside, away from prying eyes. Toby closed the door and turned to face her. She pressed her face into his shoulder, her arms around his waist.

Toby was warm from sleep and he smelt comforting. His arms came up to hold her hesitantly, unsure of how to act but he relaxed almost immediately, tenderly stroking her hair. Spencer felt as though she'd been running a race and tried her best to suppress her sobs, failing to completely mask her heavy breathing.

"What happened?" Toby asked after a moment. His voice was alive with concern and no longer held the sleepy quality of a minute before.

"The police were at my house," Spencer whispered, not wanting to disturb the dark peacefulness of the room. "I think they think … that I … that I was involved. With what happened to Alison."

Toby's arms stiffened momentarily. "What? But that's crazy!"

Spencer couldn't hold back a single sob of relief. "I'm so glad you believe that," she said, more into his skin than anything else, and felt a shiver run down his body. The atmosphere in the room changed a little. Spencer was intensely aware that his bare chest was pressed against her own which was still covered by Toby's shirt. The intimacy of it made the hairs on the back of Spencer's neck stand away from her skin.

"Why would they think that?" asked Toby, unaware of the direction of Spencer's thoughts.

"I lied to them about something," Spencer admitted, trying to concentrate on Toby's words instead of the way his chest vibrated slightly when he spoke.

"Big deal. People lie to the cops all the time." He sounded slightly calmer now. "They're probably just trying to look as though they're doing something. Don't let them get to you, Spencer."

He tightened his embrace for a moment, and Spencer's breath caught. Her fingertips slid across his lower back, tracing his spine, and Toby froze. Spencer gathered all of her courage and pressed her lips against his shoulder. Toby shuddered and took a step back. Spencer flushed with embarrassment and rejection, glad the room was dark as it hid her blush, and began thinking of an excuse to run.

"Spencer –"

"It's ok," Spencer stammered, interrupting Toby. "I get it. I'm sorry, I'll just –" she tried to step around him to the door, but Toby followed her, blocking her path. His hands came up and landed on her shoulders, his touch firm but somehow tender at the same time.

"You just surprised me," he soothed. He was smiling, she could hear it in his voice. Her blush began to die down.

"So you do like me?" she asked tentatively, needing clarification just on the off chance that she'd misinterpreted the kiss from earlier and his words just now.

She felt Toby's hand tighten on her shoulders, and then his nose brushed against hers. The dark hid him from her, leaving her to rely on her other senses. She could feel his breath across her cheek, the warmth of his body seeping into her hers, and then his lips touched hers. It was slow, gentle, but Spencer had experienced that already and wanted more even as Toby pulled back.

Her hands crept up his chest, feeling his muscles quiver under her touch. She was blushing again but forced her embarrassment aside, determined to explore both his body and her own curiosity. His skin was soft and hot. She could feel the blood pumping beneath it, a steady beat that stopped her hands from trembling.

"Spencer," Toby whispered, his voice sounding slightly shaky. Deciding to take that as a sign of encouragement, Spencer stepped closer, their bodies pressed together once more. Toby's hands slipped down her arms, leaving trails of electricity in their wake, and coming to rest on her waist. Their foreheads touched, and Spencer closed her eyes, not that it made a lot of difference. It was all the same darkness.

They kissed again, differently. Spencer was demanding something and she felt Toby give a sigh of acquiescence before giving in. Suddenly, he was clinging to her, holding her closer than before if that were even possible, and his kiss was full of fire and passion that Spencer could easily match. Her fingers tangled into his hair, marvelling at the softness of it even as she tugged on it almost brutally, holding him in place against her.

All too quickly, Spencer was breathless. She gasped into Toby's mouth, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. Her heart was beating faster than she could ever remember and her knees had given out long ago; it was Toby's arms around her that were keeping her upright. He stopped kissing her abruptly, ripping his mouth away and gasping for air as she was and they stood that way in silence for a minute as they caught their breath.

"Wow," said Spencer, practically giggling. "That was …"

"Intense," Toby supplied.

"Yeah," Spencer nodded in agreement, her forehead leaning forward until it met Toby's once again. She couldn't stop smiling and twirled some of his hair between her fingers, revelling in being this close to Toby and comfortable in touching him. His hands stroked her waist gently. Her shirt had ridden up slightly and when his fingers touched her bare skin, Spencer gasped. Toby paused, and for one heartbreaking moment, Spencer thought he would pull back and tightened her hold on him.

Maybe it was for that reason that his fingers slipped under her shirt, gliding over the skin at the base of her spine. Spencer trembled under his touch and kissed him again, with less violence but no less desire, for it was desire she could feel pulsing through her veins, making every nerve ending tingle. She'd never felt anything quite so strong taking control of her body, and hoped Toby was feeling the same.

His hands left her side, coming up to cup her face tenderly as he kissed her cheek, her jaw, down her neck to her collarbone where his tongue darted out, making her tremor. No one had ever kissed her in such a way before and a very big part of her never wanted Toby to stop.

However, he did, kissing her gently one last time, before taking a small step back, separating their bodies just a little. "We should stop," he said huskily. "Before this goes too far."

Too far … Images formed in Spencer's brain of the bed they'd already slept in holding their contorting, sweaty bodies as Toby made her feel things she'd only read about. Spencer's breath caught. Suddenly, she realised that was exactly what she wanted; what she'd come here for. She wanted Toby to love her.

Before she could second guess her actions, she pulled the shirt she wore up, over her head, and dropped it to the floor, hearing an intake of breath. Standing further apart, she was able to see more of Toby. His eyes were wide and his mouth slightly open in surprise as he stared at her. She wondered what she looked like in the almost-darkness, and felt pinpricks of insecurity. She was too skinny, too flat-chested, too young to be attractive, and her arms came up to cover what little she could.

"Why did you do that?" asked Toby, his voice catching in his throat. He was standing eerily still, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"I wanted …" Spencer cleared her throat awkwardly, not used to feeling so exposed and vulnerable. "It doesn't matter. I know I'm not …"

"Not what?" asked Toby quickly. He sounded strange, but Spencer couldn't put her finger on what it was that was off.

"Not … sexy," Spencer said, blood rushing to her cheeks as she turned her head so she wouldn't have to look at the outline of Toby in front of her. Long fingers closed around her chin, pulling her face back round so that Toby's mouth could crash into hers, telling her in the strongest way possible just how attracted to her he was.

He was frenzied once again, clutching at Spencer as though she were his only lifeline, trying to communicate how close he was to losing control, something he didn't want to do no matter how tempted he was. Spencer was all too happy for him to lose control and resumed her exploration of his body, mimicking his earlier actions as she kissed his neck, even nibbling on it and receiving a groan from Toby in response. Smiling, she repeated the action, and Toby backed off for the third time.

"Spencer, we can't," he said, panting but also sounding much more assured in his conviction.

"But I want you," Spencer argued back, trying to kiss him again. Toby fended her off with practiced expertise.

"And I want you, more than you can imagine, but you'll hate me in the morning."

"No, I won't," said Spencer firmly, and Toby chuckled at her determination. He stroked her cheek affectionately.

"You're right, you won't," he agreed, and she realised he meant because nothing more was going to happen.

"Toby –"

"Even if I thought this was a good idea, we couldn't, Spencer. I don't have any protection," Toby informed her calmly. He had made peace with what would not happen, and was now merely waiting for Spencer to do the same.

Spencer's shoulders slumped with defeat. She turned away from Toby, embarrassed beyond anything she'd experienced that night, and folded her arms across her chest. Toby bent and picked up the shirt she'd discarded and walked round to face her. He patiently placed the shirt over her head, guiding her arms through the sleeves, and then gathered Spencer into his arms in a warm embrace.

"Why isn't this a good idea?" Spencer mumbled into his chest, refusing to hug him back but content to be held.

"You came here to be comforted. Anything more would be me taking advantage," Toby explained. Spencer snorted with derision.

"Sex can be comforting," she argued back.

"Not your first time," Toby told her with what sounded like regret in his tone. Spencer had no reply for that. She'd never bought into the myth about sex having to be special. She had the brain of a scientist. Sex was for reproduction. It wasn't as sacred as everyone made it out to be, although she had a feeling that with Toby it could be the special, magical night that people described.

And why couldn't that night be tonight?

"What if the police come for me tomorrow?" she asked, the fear irrational but no less real because of that. "What if I go to jail and I've never –?"

Toby laughed and she stopped talking. "That is never going to happen, Spencer. Trust me."

And she did. Completely. Toby led her to the bed and they lay down with Spencer's head on Toby's chest and his arms around her. Spencer couldn't stop thinking about the police in her house, and for her, not Ian. She didn't feel safe there anymore, and remembered that Toby felt the exact same way. Why else had he checked into this motel?

"Can we stay here forever?" she asked, looking around the darkened room. She could easily live here, she lied to herself.

Toby chuckled again. He didn't make any other reply, but Spencer didn't really want him to.

"You make me feel safe," she told him quietly. "I don't know how, but you do. That's why I came here. I knew you'd understand how I felt, and you'd make me feel safe again. I haven't felt safe for so long …" she trailed off, unaware of what her words had done.

Tears were forming in Toby's eyes. He was so used to scaring people, to making children cry and adults tremble, that he'd forgotten what it was like to be needed. Spencer needed him. He could hear it in her voice, feel it in the way she lay beside him. She _needed_ him to make her feel safe.

He rolled onto his side, surprising Spencer as he moved, and then he was kissing her. She didn't understand why, but she didn't argue, too happy to be touching him that way again to even contemplate argument. Yet again, the kiss was different. Spencer felt different. She knew, somehow, that Toby's objections had melted away. She knew this kiss was heading somewhere.

When Toby's fingers snaked under her shirt again, Spencer was the one to pull back, nervous. She looked into Toby's eyes, honest and open only a few millimetres from her own, barely visible in the dark.

"We don't have protection," she reminded him sadly.

Toby smiled a little. "I lied," he said, and kissed Spencer again before she could be angry. Anything that might have been rage was quickly diverted into want, and she helped Toby remove her shirt, trying not to shiver in the cool night air. Toby's hands burned as he caressed her, and then he was lying half on top of her, their bare skin searing where it touched.

Spencer had never felt so precious, so worshipped, so loved as she did then. Toby's touch was so reverent it almost made her cry, and gentle even when she could see the lustful flames in his eyes. His sole focus was her, making her feel nothing but good. She had no room for embarrassment now as she lay naked beneath him, admiring him as he did her. She couldn't experience any insecurity, not when he was looking at her the way he did, with adoration beyond all else. It was almost enough to block out the inevitable pain, but even that seemed to come from far away. An ache rather than something sharp, nagging at her when she wanted it to leave her alone.

She didn't get time to analyse it. Toby didn't let her waste her energy on thinking; he swept her up in a torrent of emotion and feeling and Spencer wasn't even coherent when the storm calmed. The images she'd conjured earlier were nothing really, not now, not after, when Toby was so close she wasn't sure whether it was his back or hers that her hands rested upon.

Their breathing slowed, and the sweat on their skin began to dry, and Toby moved them both, careful not to hurt Spencer anymore, until they were lying as they had been earlier, her curled around him. Words weren't necessary. They would only ruin this beautiful moment, and Spencer understood why this night was important.

She wasn't sure if she slept, or merely lay there in a state of semi-consciousness, but the room was lighter when Toby next moved, letting out a sigh and turning his head in his sleep towards her. Spencer could finally make out his chiselled features. How had she ever mistaken this face to be that of a murderer's? If she could have gone back, to before, before Alison disappeared, before the Jenna thing, back to when he was just Toby Cavanaugh, Emily's new neighbour, she would have made the effort to see this beauty that she saw now. She would have talked to him, made him laugh, basked in his smile. All the time that they'd lost …

She shook herself from her poetic musings, accepting that the only thing she could change was the future, and that she'd done just that in this bed only a little while earlier, when she lost her virginity to Toby Cavanaugh. Thinking that shocked her a little. It was so contrary to everything she'd ever planned for herself in life, but that didn't really bother her. She'd never planned for Alison to disappear either, or the subsequent police investigation, or even what had happened to Jenna and Toby, but it had all happened and she had to make the best of it.

Although, that made it sound as though she were settling when it wasn't like that at all. Spencer could never settle for Toby. Gazing at him in the pink pre-dawn, he looked like first prize, something to be fought for. The strength of her gaze appeared to rouse him as his eyes flickered open and met hers. He smiled sleepily.

"Did you sleep?" he asked, and Spencer shrugged.

"I'm not really sure."

Toby stretched, his toes curling and his stomach flexing, revealing just how muscular he was. Something fluttered in Spencer's stomach.

"How do you feel?" Toby asked, looking at her with assessing eyes. They were no longer hidden in the dark. He could see her, clearly. All the emotion written across her face. Spencer took advantage of that, smiling widely.

"Different," she replied, "but in a good way."

Something akin to relief crossed Toby's face. Spencer leaned towards him and they kissed almost lazily. The taste of him was almost familiar, and Spencer was excited by that. Toby was also smiling when Spencer pulled back, in a way she'd never seen him do before. He looked happy.

The idea of leaving him physically hurt, but as the room grew brighter, Spencer knew she had no choice. With a sigh, she sat up, and paused. Her movement revealed an ache in her gut that she'd never felt before. She took a moment to adjust, before standing up, suddenly aware of her nakedness. Her arms wrapped around her chest and she fled into the bathroom, taking her clothes with her. She winced as she dressed, but it wasn't an unbearable pain, more of a twinge.

She emerged from the bathroom and paused. Toby was sitting up, head in his hands, the sheets pooling around his waist. Spencer felt sick all of a sudden. Was he already regretting the night before? Was he trying to think of an escape route? The suggestion alone made Spencer want to cry.

"Toby?" she queried, terrified of his response.

He looked up with a sad face. "I'm sorry I hurt you," he told her sincerely. "I tried not to." He looked away out of shame.

Spencer was instantly confused. "Hurt me? You didn't …"

Toby moved the sheets aside and Spencer saw they were stained red. Blood. Her blood. Oh. Toby's reaction made sense and she smiled with relief as she crossed to the bed and folded the sheet back over to hide the stains.

"I promise you I barely felt it," she told him, reaching from Toby's hand. He looked at her, his eyes penetrating, searching for a lie.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Spencer smiled. She leaned down and kissed him quickly. "I have to go."

Toby nodded. He knew. While Spencer gathered her things, he located and put on his pyjama trousers and walked with her to her car, opening the door for her like a gentlemen. She climbed in gingerly, wary of sitting in a way that may hurt, although she was careful to hide the actions from Toby. He closed the door and she wound down the window, not wanting to say goodbye just yet.

"Will you call me later?" she asked, and Toby nodded.

"Everything's going to be fine," he told her, and Spencer nodded in agreement, smiling.

"I believe you."

Toby smiled, kissed her goodbye, and stepped back. He waited until she'd driven out of the parking lot before returning to his room.

Spencer drove much slower than she had the night before and sat in the car for several moments once parked outside her house. The curtains were still drawn. She had some time to reflect. The ache in between her legs was almost pleasurable when she thought of how it had occurred and what it meant. She was no longer a virgin. Honestly, she believed she could not have had a better first time than she had, and felt absolutely no regrets about the night before. Toby's belief that she would hate him had clearly been unfounded.

Finally, she climbed out of the car and let herself into the house. There was no way she could climb back up to her window. She crept up the stairs and reached her room without rousing anyone. She lay back on her bed, suddenly exhausted, and fell asleep almost instantly, still smiling.

...

**NB:** I don't know if I'll carry this one or not. Let me know what you think =]


	2. Two

**Two**

Spencer stepped into the shower somewhat unwillingly, knowing it was necessary, but loathe to wash off the remnants of the night before. The more she thought about it, the less real it seemed, like a dream slipping through her fingers, made solid and whole whenever she moved and dull throbs echoed up through her stomach. She washed carefully, slightly alarmed when the water seemed to run pink, but it was only for a second and she felt better once she stepped out. Different.

Reaching for a towel, Spencer paused, turning to face the mirror above her sink. It was the same old Spencer looking back at her. Was it? There were dark circles under her eyes betraying just how little sleep she'd had, and the curves and angles of her body hadn't changed, but something in her eyes gave it all away. She was different, completely. It thrilled her.

She was quiet at breakfast, desperate not to draw attention to herself, positive that if her parents looked too closely, they would see it. They would see how much she'd changed overnight, and she wanted to keep this secret as tight to her chest as she could. Although, she highly doubted that A didn't already know. That bitch knew everything!

Arriving at school, Spencer was immediately freaked out by how many people were staring at her. Was it that obvious? Scrawled across her forehead? Was there a news bulletin she was unaware of, proclaiming that Spencer Hastings had sex with Toby Cavanaugh? She kept her head bent, scurrying through the corridors, mortified by the attention. What was so interesting about her?

She caught a few snatches of the whispers, and realized all too quickly that it wasn't her sex life that was enthralling the students, but the infamous police visit to her house. The words _person of interest_ were being repeated over and over and Spencer felt anger surge within her. How dare any of these people believe her to be guilty of anything that had happened to Alison! They'd been best friends, still were in Spencer's opinion, and no matter how many arguments they'd had over Jenna or Ian or anything else, that couldn't change.

She spent lunch explaining to her friends what had happened, somewhat distracted by Hanna although she couldn't explain why. She didn't have to. Once they'd exhausted Spencer's police-story, Hanna launched into her own, describing in slightly too-graphic detail what had happened between her and Caleb.

For some reason, Spencer decided not to follow Hanna's example. What happened between her and Toby felt more private than that, and she feared sharing it would somehow spoil it. She was content to sit there quietly as Emily and Aria excitedly questioned Hanna, Aria comparing to herself and Emily jokingly wrinkling her nose.

She remained quiet throughout the day, which was put down to stress over the police intrusion into her life, and while that was a contributing factor, it had more to do with Toby than the police. She felt more confident today. What could A really do to her? She'd tried and failed to frame Toby, a likely candidate due to his record. But Spencer was a straight-A student, one of Alison's best friends, and a member of one of the most prestigious families in Rosewood. She was not unprotected, did not have a bad reputation. She felt safe.

"Hey," greeted Emily, tapping Spencer's shoulder as she stood by her locker, preparing to leave. "You ok? You've been so quiet all day."

Spencer shrugged. "There isn't much else to say."

Emily tried to smile supportively, taking Spencer's bag from her so her hands were free to move her books around. "I suppose not. How about you come back to mine for a bit? We can study and talk."

Spencer began to say no, but then she remembered where Emily lived, or more precisely, who lived opposite her. "Yeah, some girl time would probably do me good," Spencer agreed, smiling happily, even if she knew she would end up doing Emily's algebra. She liked algebra.

They drove home in a convoy, Emily first, and she pulled into her driveway. Spencer followed, twisting in her seat to survey the Cavanaugh household. There was no movement that she could see, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. She climbed out, gestured for Emily to wait, and hurried across the road. The closer she came to the house, the more convinced she was that it was empty, but she tried anyway. However, after several knocks and a minute of silence, a dejected Spencer turned back to join her friend.

Emily raised one eyebrow as they entered her house, but asked no questions as they were greeted by Pam, Emily's mother. She offered to make cookies, something Emily coolly declined, leading Spencer upstairs. Emily closed the door behind them, something she hardly ever used to do, and Spencer looked at her expectantly.

"I thought you two were ok now," she commented, and Emily shrugged.

"She defended me to Mr. McCullers. She didn't accept me for who I am," she replied, pain evident in her voice. Spencer reached out to squeeze Emily's hand in a comforting gesture.

"I'm so sorry Emily."

Emily shrugged, forcing a sunny smile to her face. "It doesn't matter. Do you want to tell me why you looked so disappointed when you got no reply at the Cavanaugh's?" Her eyes were sparkling mischievously, as though she knew exactly what the reason was, but was determined to make Spencer admit at aloud.

Spencer turned away, aware that her cheeks were tinged rosy pink. She was facing the window and couldn't help wandering over to it, her eyes on the Cavanaugh house. When she turned back, Emily was smiling a knowing smile.

"You really like him, don't you?" she asked gently, and Spencer's lips turned up involuntarily.

"Yeah, I really do," she admitted. "He's not like anyone I've ever met before, Em."

"Yeah," Emily nodded. "I know what you mean."

The comment almost made Spencer jealous, remembering a time when it was Emily Toby talked to instead of her. However, it simply made her smile. She was relieved that someone else in this town saw how special Toby was, without being his psychotic stepsister. The knowledge made her want to trust Emily with what had happened, despite her earlier reluctance. She hurried to the bed, sitting next to Emily and grabbing her wrists, the excitement bubbling up in her stomach and bursting from her mouth.

"Something happened between us."

Emily's eyes lit up with the same excitement and her voice dropped conspiratorially. "What? When?"

Spencer could feel her cheeks flushing red and she was unable to stop smiling. "Well, you know we were at the motel watching room 214?"

Emily nodded eagerly.

"When I left yesterday morning, Toby kissed me –"

"How was it?" asked Emily, and Spencer laughed aloud at Emily's enthusiasm. She was pretty sure her own happiness had infected Emily, or maybe she was just living vicariously through Spencer and Hanna's experiences of an act she would never undergo herself. At least, not with a guy.

"Perfect," said Spencer, highly embarrassed by how breathless she sounded. "Slow, but still really intense."

Emily nodded. That sounded a lot like the Toby she knew. His effect on Spencer, however, was something she'd never seen before. Her logical, determined and ambitious friend acting like a real schoolgirl for once, over a kiss … It didn't quite ring true.

"And then, I went back to the motel last night," Spencer added, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper.

"You went back?" asked Emily for clarification. "What –?" She stopped, eyes widening, as Spencer ducked her head, cheeks pink and eyes matching her smile. Suddenly, it made sense. Of course Spencer wouldn't be acting this way over just a _kiss_. Something much more than a kiss, however …

"Spencer, did you two sleep together?" Emily whispered, and Spencer looked up, nodding. Emily's mouth fell open. "Oh my God!"

"I know," Spencer said quickly. "I know it's fast, really fast, but it just felt right! And he was so gentle, Emily. He made it really special. It was … perfect," was the only adjective she could come up with, once again.

Emily didn't know quite what to say. The way Spencer spoke, the softness of her voice and the light in her eyes, betrayed the emotions she was having difficulty communicating. There was something different about her, Emily realized. She seemed calmer and happier, despite all the pressure the police were delighting in heaping onto her, and it made Emily happy to see it. She was also incredibly privileged. Spencer was a naturally private person, and it was an honour that she had chosen to reveal this to Emily, not Aria or Hanna. Especially Hanna, who had undergone only the same occurrence the night before!

The odd symmetry of that made Emily smile.

"Wow," she said, when no other words presented themselves.

Spencer was watching her meekly. "You're not judging me, are you?"

"No, of course not," Emily said immediately, and Spencer visibly relaxed. Her shoulders unclenched and she squeezed Emily's wrist gratefully. "I'm just a bit surprised, that's all. You and Toby!"

Spencer grinned. "Yeah, it's a lot."

Emily could only nod her agreement. She didn't know how much Spencer appreciated her reaction; her fear of what people would say was soothed. The privacy Spencer had decided upon was now no longer based in part on the fear of what people would say, but solely on keeping that moment as a cherished memory.

"So, are you and Toby together now?" Emily asked.

Spencer paused. "We didn't really, um … talk about it," she admitted. Her eyes filled with alarm, and Emily wished she could take the words back.

"Well, I'm sure that the first thing he'll tell you when you guys talk is how much he wants to be with you," she said quickly, smiling comfortingly.

Spencer looked at her carefully. She'd never even considered that. She wanted to be in a relationship with Toby, she wanted it more than anything, but did he want to be in a relationship with her? She'd been involved in some of the truly terrible things that had happened to him. Maybe this had all been about revenge? He'd take her virginity, and then break her heart –

Even as she thought it, Spencer shuddered and swept the thoughts aside. Toby wasn't like that. He was honest and so wholly good. It made him vulnerable in a way that made Spencer want to hug him tight, and strong enough to keep her safe from all the evil out there. This was _Toby_, not Ian she was thinking about. He wouldn't hurt her that way. He wasn't capable of acting like that.

But until she spoke to him, Spencer knew she would wonder …

Emily got out her algebra, and Spencer helped her through it, apologising every time Emily had to call for her attention more than once. Whenever she heard a car, she looked round, peering out of the window, but no, it wasn't Toby returning.

Except, finally, it was! A cab pulled up outside the Cavanaugh house and he climbed out, grabbing his bag and handing the driver some money. The cab sped away as Toby disappeared into his house. Spencer leapt up, sending one of Emily's books onto the floor.

"Sorry," Spencer garbled, throwing the book back onto the bed. "I'll be just a second," she added as she hurried out of Emily's room, past Pam in the kitchen baking the cookies she'd talked of earlier, and out across the street to the Cavanaugh household.

There, she hesitated, terrified she would meet with rejection, but summoning all of her Hastings courage and knocking boldly on the door. There was a moment of silence, and then footsteps moving towards her, mirroring her heartbeat. The door open and Toby stood there, his coat still on and shoes half untied. He smiled instantly, and Spencer felt the steel band around her chest relax its grip.

"Hey," he greeted warmly, moving aside, inviting her in. It was the first time she had ever been invited into the house, something that struck her as she stepped over the threshold. The house was far less oppressive without Jenna inside. "How are you?" Toby asked as he closed the front door behind her.

"I'm good," said Spencer. "Really good, actually. You?"

Toby smiled at her, gentle and loving, and Spencer knew she had nothing to fear. Toby reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm ok."

Spencer didn't know what else to say. She wanted to ask for some kind of clarification, but it felt silly, almost juvenile to ask if she was now his girlfriend. Toby seemed to sense her apprehension but didn't question her on it. He led the way down the hall, past Jenna's room, and into a different kind of sanctuary.

Toby's room, Spencer noticed, was too minimalistic. The walls were bare, the bed made neatly in a manner that Spencer knew he'd learned in reform school, and the only clothes out were the ones he'd been in the process of unpacking. Toby seemed a little uncomfortable there, as though his room weren't a place he felt entirely comfortable. Remembering who he shared the house with, Spencer wasn't surprised. His many recent absences must have also taken their toll. The only thing Spencer could see that was personal, apart from Toby's laptop, were the books. He had a bookshelf overflowing with well-thumbed volumes of all genres. Resting on the top, as though in pride of place, was the French book she had given him to read.

Spencer smiled a little at that.

"It's not much," said Toby awkwardly, looking around as though he only just realized how sparse and unwelcoming the room was.

"It's fine," Spencer replied instantly, reassuring him. She sat on the bed – the only available seat in the room, and Toby sat beside her. She hesitated, once again commanding herself to be brave and just jump in headfirst. "Toby, about last night … I don't regret it. Not at all. And I don't hate you. I feel exactly the opposite of hate."

She didn't look round, but she could feel Toby's gaze resting on her, soft as a feather unlike the oppressive eyes at school. He reached out and tilted her chin up and round until she was looking at him, at his smiling, happy face.

"So do I," he promised.

Spencer smiled, relieved, and leaned closer, their noses touching gently. "So, what does this mean?" she asked, determined to have some sort of label to put upon what they were, even if it was just between the two of them.

Toby hesitated, as though he didn't quite know where to start, or even what needed to be discussed. His hands moved through the air until they found Spencer's and held them tightly, forming a bridge between them.

"Last night probably shouldn't have happened," he began, and felt Spencer flinch. "But I'm glad that it did," he added, and Spencer relaxed slightly.

"I am too," she replied.

Toby sighed. "Spencer, the fact that I think last night happened too quickly doesn't mean I don't like you. Because I do. Very much. But is now a good time for this to happen, for either of us?"

He had a point. The police had only just finished ruining Toby's life and appeared to be moving on to Spencer's. But wasn't that also a good reason? No one else would ever understand how this felt. Everything that had happened since Alison disappeared, every heart-stopping, agonising, moment of it, felt bearable with Toby close at hand. And didn't Toby deserve to have something good in his life? Something that wasn't screwed up because of Jenna or Alison or A? Didn't he owe it to himself to enjoy this, whatever this was?

"Are you saying you don't want to date me?" asked Spencer. The return of that thought was cutting into her stomach, violently painful. She'd given herself to him in the most intimate sense only a few hours before, and he was rejecting her already.

"No, of course not," said Toby, squeezing her hands tightly, his words falling onto her lips. "I want to date you. But I'm worried that –"

Spencer interrupted to silence him. "I worry more than anyone in the whole of Rosewood, and I still want to be with you," she pointed out, and Toby was silenced.

He even chuckled a little. "You're right," he murmured.

They were quiet for a moment and the silence was comfortable. Spencer was reassured by his promise that he wasn't giving up on them, even if it meant them being together in a slightly less publicly way than she would have preferred.

"Spencer, it would be an honour to date you," Toby told her, his breath ghosting across her face. Shivers cascaded down Spencer's spine and her stomach throbbed pleasurably. She was smiling in a way she was sure she'd never smiled before. "If you'll have me."

Spencer kissed him in reply, lovingly, remembering the night before and how his touch had made her feel like a goddess. Toby's finger drifted over her cheek and neck, holding her body tenderly –

There was a knock at the door. Toby pulled back with a sigh of disappointment that meant a lot to Spencer although she would never say so. He smiled at her ruefully and got up, walking back down the hallway. Spencer followed, too uncomfortable to stay in his room alone.

"Emily," Toby greeted, slightly surprised. Spencer sped up, until she could see Emily standing there, holding up Spencer's phone with an apologetic expression on her face.

"It's your mom. She said it was urgent," Emily told them, and Spencer paused, looking up at Toby. He smiled and gestured for her to leave.

"It's ok," he said quietly, and still Spencer hesitated, torn.

"Will you come and see me tonight?" she asked, and Toby nodded immediately.

"I promise," he replied, and Spencer grinned happily. She hurried across the road with Emily, taking the phone from her as they went. Toby watched her go, hovering in his doorway.

"Hey Mom," Spencer said as she put the phone to her ear.

"Spencer, you need to come home right now," said Veronica, her voice not at all light-hearted. And yet, her seriousness could not penetrate Spencer's happy bubble.

"Ok, I'm just leaving Emily's," Spencer replied and hung up.

"So, did you get your answer?" Emily asked, teasing with a wink.

Spencer shrugged as though it were no big deal, when in reality she wanted to dance around like a lunatic. Emily looked round at Toby.

"He's still looking at you," she told Spencer before heading inside to pick up Spencer's books. Spencer counted to three in her head before looking round. Sure enough, Toby was standing there gazing at her, smiling when their eyes met. Spencer felt her stomach clench excitedly and she had to order herself to focus before walking into Emily's house to gather her things.

Returning home, her happiness was shattered. The police were in her house, in her room, taking whatever they cared to and Ian was watching with that unbelievably smug look in his eyes. Spencer, nauseous, sat downstairs, arms locked around her knees as the police continued to violate her upstairs.

Her mother sat with her, keeping up a steady flow of encouragement and police-abuse, instructing her to stay calm, not look as though this bothered her and that she could break down after the police were gone.

None of it made Spencer feel any better. She wished Toby had stayed at the motel for another night so that she would have a place to run to. Any safety she felt earlier, that armour of invincibility, was gone, shattered, and Spencer hated A with a vengeance she'd never felt before. Whoever it was, they would pay for what they'd done to her. And Toby. And everyone else she cared about.

The police finally left after her mother put her foot down and refused to let them take Spencer's laptop. Ian and Melissa joined them both, making comments intended to hurt, and Spencer ran upstairs, locking herself in her vandalised room. She began the long process of cleaning up, taking stock of what had been taken, trying to remind herself of what her mother had said about the police's motives being the collapse of her emotional well-being rather than a real search for evidence. Either way, it still felt like rape.

Her phone buzzed. She almost didn't check it, sure it would be A gloating, but instead it was Toby telling her that he was outside. She didn't want to descend into the Spencer-bashing which was no doubt taking place downstairs, and instead opened her window wide, looking out and spying Toby in the bushes. He spotted her and loped across the lawn to stand beneath her window. She gestured for him to climb up.

"God, I'm glad to see you," she told him as he slid over the window ledge and tried to hug him. Toby, however, quickly closed the window, and the curtains, hiding them from view.

"You've got a cop car across from your house, or I would have come to the front door," he told her in a quiet but urgent voice.

"Are you sure?" asked Spencer, wrapping her arms around her stomach in an attempt to stop the feelings bubbling there. Her nausea doubled.

"I know every stocked sedan in town, they used to rotate in front of my house," Toby told her. His eyes were filled with concern. "Spencer, tell me what's going on."

Spencer bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears now pricking the backs of her eyes. "The police searched my house today. They took things from my room. I'm a person of interest," she repeated the phrase with disgust.

Toby looked momentarily stunned, before enveloping her in his arms. Spencer melted against him, searching for that security that Toby seemed to provide without even trying. He stroked her hair, kissed her forehead, and cushioned her against the blows she was receiving from all sides. Spencer tried not to cry, but couldn't prevent a couple of tears from bleeding out under her eyelids.

"I'm so scared," she told him. "What if the person framing me doesn't mess up the way they did with you? What if they charge me? I could go to jail!"

"You won't," said Toby firmly. "You have done nothing wrong. Trust me, you won't be going to jail." He held her a little tighter, as though he could keep her there by his own willpower. His belief alone would turn what he said into truth and Spencer would be free of their judgement, their accusations, their idiocy.

"Thank you," Spencer mumbled, her emotions back under control.

"Anytime," Toby promised, kissing her forehead again. Spencer looked up, their faces barely any distance apart.

"Will you stay with me?"

Toby glanced around the room, mouth open as he tried to say no. It wasn't a good idea. There were police officers watching the house. His parents would notice if he didn't return. Her parents might want to check on her in the night and discover them. But he couldn't voice any of these objections when he looked at Spencer and saw the plea in her eyes. He nodded and saw her visibly relax.

"Thank you," she breathed again, settling her head back against his chest. He looked down at her auburn hair, her beautiful face, and couldn't help smiling.

They curled up in Spencer's bed, fully clothed, and turned out the lights. With the return of the dark, Spencer lost all his inhibitions. She forgot this was the bed she'd slept in as a six year old, topping and tailing with Alison, Aria, Emily, Hanna. She forgot her family were only a few feet away. She forgot the police were out to get her. All that was left was her and Toby, gazing at each other through the darkness. She curled up in his arms, their bodies pressed almost as closely as was possible, and Spencer cried a little. It made sense, she supposed, for something to go wrong just when everything felt like it was going so right. Wasn't there an unwritten law that stated that? And there was also a balance in the world or good versus bad. Having Toby come into her life must have tipped the scales too far in her favour, and this was some kind of karma payback.

If that was the case, then karma was an even bigger bitch than A.

"Sleep, Spencer," Toby soothed. "I'll keep you safe. I promise."

She relaxed against him, desperate to believe him and not struggling to do so. Even in the room where the police had tried to make her a victim, she felt some of her strength returning, and it was all down to Toby. As clichéd as it was, he was saving her.

**NB: **I was surprised to get so much feedback so quickly! I guess it inspired me lol. So ... thoughts on where this should go? I have an idea but I'd still love to hear your thoughts =]


	3. Three

Three

Toby woke first, disoriented for a moment before he realised he was lying in Spencer Hastings's bed, spooning said owner. He relaxed instantly, unable to see much of Spencer's face behind the curtain of her beautiful brown hair. The room was stained pink by the rising sun, highlighting every nuance that gave away how much of Spencer's life was contained by these walls. It was such a stark contrast to his own room in the Cavanaugh household that Toby felt sick with jealousy. This was the life he'd once longed for; to be rich and talented and surrounded by an unbroken family unit. But where had that life taken Spencer? Her relationship with her sister was just as bad as Toby's with Jenna, and she too had been accused of a murder neither of them were guilty of.

Toby knew, only too well, that relationships were messy and complicated. He had watched his parents' marriage fall to pieces, experienced firsthand the devastation of Jenna's affections, and felt a little too damaged to ever consider himself normal. If he ever had been in the first place.

Did that really matter? It didn't seem to when Spencer looked at him like he was her saviour. Toby was anything but, and he knew that, but again, it didn't matter. He had a feeling in his stomach, jerking him on, down a path he was sure would bring him more heartache, but also moments like _this_. Before the sun officially rose, before Spencer woke up, where he could hold her, the precious gem she was, and promise anyone who was listening that he would never let her go. This, whatever this was, was forever.

It was such a terrible cliché, and Toby officially didn't care.

He was struggling to care about much beside Spencer, and even if he knew that associating with her while she was under such close scrutiny would only draw back the attention he'd somehow escaped, in a way, he wanted that. Had Toby known his freedom would come at the cost of Spencer's, he wasn't sure he could have paid it, even then, before …

He had to go. Being found here would be disastrous for Spencer, and if he wasn't at home when the rest of his family woke up there would be hell to pay. But he didn't want to leave without saying goodbye, neither could he wake her when she was so relaxed, in a state of peace that awakening would only bruise. He waited, aware of the consequences and damning them to hell.

Spencer began to stir, and Toby waited patiently for her to rub her eyes, push her hair aside, and meet his gaze. She smiled sleepily. "Morning," she mumbled.

Toby kissed her forehead in reply, and her smile grew a little bigger. Seeing it made Toby's chest contract for a moment.

"What time is it?" Spencer asked, her eyes sliding shut as she burrowed back under the covers. Toby chuckled. He'd never seen Spencer act like a child before, and decided he loved watching her wake up. If he got his way, he would see it plenty of times in the future.

"Almost six," Toby told her.

Spencer sighed, her face hidden once again. "You need to go, don't you?"

Toby frowned when he replied, "Yes." Leaving her sounded like an even worse idea when voiced aloud. She needed him, especially with people like Ian Thomas living only a few feet away. And he needed her goodness and trust, he needed to make her smile and prove to the whole of Rosewood that he was worth something; he must be if Spencer Hastings thought he was. The notorious perfectionist was with him not because she wanted to change him, but because she wanted him. And Toby loved her for it.

With another sigh, Spencer pushed weakly against his chest. "Ok, go on." She sounded resigned. "I don't want to get you in trouble."

Toby wanted to ask how much more trouble he could possibly get in, but instead obeyed her command. As he stood, he winced. Sleeping in his jeans had definitely not been comfortable, not that he'd noticed while Spencer was lying beside him. Stretching, he felt his muscles pop satisfyingly back into their correct places, but was eager to get out of the creased clothes as soon as possible.

Spencer was watching him from where she lay, half exposed from where the covers had moved when Toby climbed from the bed. He moved them back over her, tucking her in lovingly, and kissing her as he did so.

"I'll see you later," he promised, and Spencer nodded. He opened the window, paused to smile at her, and climbed down carefully, landing on the lawn in silence. He knew the police would still be watching, so he skirted round, behind the barn, the way he'd come when he came to talk to Alison on that dreadful night, and ran all the way home.

The house was silent as he crept in and discarded his clothes in favour of his pyjama trousers. Spencer still had the top. That made him smile again as he climbed into bed, not tired but knowing he had a part to play.

The room felt lonely as he lay there, watching the light spread across his ceiling. Not just because it was devoid of any identifying marks, but because he was alone. He'd grown used to another person sleeping in the same room as him during his stay in reform school, and while sharing with Spencer was a completely different thing, one where he could genuinely relax without the small, underlying fear of being stabbed in his sleep, it had been familiar in a strangely comforting way.

He'd changed, a lot, in reform school. Become even quieter, more reserved, keeping his thoughts and emotions as private as possible. And he'd grown stronger. What choice did he have but to? The atmosphere in that place had been toxic, poisoning him, taunting him, and the regular beatings other boys there had been eager to dole out had taken their toll.

So he'd used the weight room, done sit-ups and press-ups in his room during lockdown, building up his strength even as he whiled away the many long and boring hours of nothing. He was able to defend himself against the attacks now, and the bullies quickly moved on to someone else, even inviting him to join in when it a peeping tom was the newest kid on the block.

Memories of Alison's injustice had tempted Toby, tempted him too much, but he'd resisted. He clung to his innocence as a shining beacon, silently determined to be better than everyone around him. And he'd made it through, somehow, with incredible will power. The strength he'd built up was not just physical.

The first night back, while his parents looked on warily, Jenna has tried to sneak into his room. Toby rebuffed her continually and then installed a lock on the door. His parents hadn't liked that, not one bit, but somehow Toby convinced them to let it stay with a speech about needing to find some privacy after the intrusiveness of prison. They didn't understand why, after months of being locked away, Toby didn't want doors and windows wide open, letting freedom float in on the breeze. They didn't understand that the concept of locking a door was immeasurably different when it was Toby who held the key.

Emily had been the first person in Rosewood to make him talk and laugh again, but even then he was wary. The distrust reform school had drummed into him had lingered too long, and though he had tried with Emily, he'd learnt he couldn't leave any of it behind. Not when the rest of the town was intent on keeping him as that bad boy from reform school who had tried to kill his stepsister. And then, Alison DiLaurentis.

Spencer was different, somehow. True, she'd believed the media, the police, the lies that were supported by his reputation as an arsonist, even though _that _she'd known to be fake. But she'd acknowledged her mistake, and tried to apologise, even help him. She'd forced her way in with that Hastings determination and trusted him with almost frightening faith and it was all Toby had needed to be sure he could prove himself, prove _them_ all wrong.

Three times now, she'd slept beside him. The ultimate sign of trust. She'd been completely vulnerable, and he hadn't let her down. That told Toby everything he needed to know about himself, and he revelled in his newfound self-belief.

There was a knock on the door. Toby glanced at the clock. So lost in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed the past few hours slide by. He climbed out of bed and opened the door to see his father's grave face.

"Where were you last night?"

The question threw Toby off. He reverted instantly to what he'd learnt in reform school; any answer could be an admission of guilt. Redirect the question. Avoid. "What do you mean?"

Mr. Cavanaugh's gaze grew harder. "Jenna heard you sneaking in this morning. Where were you?" he demanded.

Toby was both angered and relieved all at once. He could get out of this, he was sure. "I don't know what you're talking about, sir. I was asleep. Jenna must have heard something else."

It was a low move, using Jenna's blindness against her. But, as Toby was subtly pointing out, how could Jenna be sure of what she'd heard when she couldn't confirm it by sight? He saw doubt enter his father's eyes.

"Well, I suppose …" Mr. Cavanaugh hesitated again. "As long as you were here all night. I don't want you wandering around on your own at night, Toby. People will get the wrong idea."

Toby wanted to laugh. How much more of a wrong idea could people have about him? His father walked away, and Toby closed and locked the door. Jenna would be along soon, demanding answers, furious that he'd talked his way out of punishment. Her vindictiveness knew no bounds. However, no such encounter took place. He heard everyone leave, for work and to take Jenna to school.

Where Spencer would also be. Toby wished for a moment he'd been allowed to return there. Then, brushing the thought aside and telling himself not to dwell on the past any longer, he got dressed and picked up his tools. He would fix that bike if it killed him, and the sooner he did it the sooner he could surprise Spencer with a ride on it. He'd bought the bike in the first place because of the feel of the air slapping at his face, the exhilaration rushing through his blood. He didn't want Spencer to miss out on the closest feeling to flying.

Spencer _was_ at school, mainly because a few minutes after Toby left the memory that the police had torn through her room the night before returned and she felt too uncomfortable to stay there. She'd left before anyone else had even come down for breakfast and been enduring the gazes of her suspicious classmates and teachers ever since. Innocent until proven guilty? Not a chance!

She'd barely sat down with her friends before her mother summoned her back home. Spencer was achingly tired as she obeyed, not because she hadn't slept, but because of the weight of everything bearing down upon her. The idea of going home to where Ian was just made everything worse.

She entered the house, prepared to return to her room, only to be confronted by her parents, Melissa and Ian waiting for her in the living room. Her stomach clenched painfully. What now? Was she about to be arrested? Or sectioned?

"Spencer, sit down," Peter ordered, and Spencer did so uneasily, feeling as though she were about to be interviewed. Again.

"What's going on?" she asked, her voice full of trepidation. "Are the police back?"

"No," Veronica replied. Anger filled her tone. "We want to talk to you about last night."

The search warrant. "What about it?" asked Spencer. What could the police possibly have found? Were they coming back for her laptop?

"Toby Cavanaugh spent the night in your room," stated Peter, eyes fixed on his clenched fists. Spencer's mouth fell open, shocked. She looked from her father to her mother's faces.

"What … How did you –?"

"We saw him leave," said Melissa. She was holding Ian's hand and smirking, Spencer noticed, and didn't risk a glance at Ian. She was too shocked and scared. "My morning sickness wakes me up pretty early," Melissa continued. "He climbed out of your window and snuck round the barn."

"It's not what you think," Spencer mumbled, humiliated beyond belief.

Peter and Veronica both laughed with cruel disbelief. Spencer bent her head submissively, their laughter hurting more than she could say. Melissa stood up, dragging Ian with her. There was an air of smugness in her tone.

"We'll leave you to it."

They left for the barn, and Spencer waited on tenterhooks for her parent's judgement. She did not have to wait long.

"How long has … _this_ … been going on?" Veronica demanded, her disgust evident even in her quiet voice.

Spencer didn't know quite how to respond. She'd been Toby's friend for a few weeks. She'd been more than his friend since the weekend. He'd stayed over once, and once only.

"It only happened once," she told them, believing it because it was the truth. "And it was only because I was so upset by the police –"

"We don't care why it happened," Peter interrupted. "The fact that it happened at all reveals how little respect you have for myself and for your mother."

Spencer sat in silence, head bowed, willing to accept her punishment with good grace. She had broken the rules after all, and doing the time for a crime she had committed was perfectly acceptable. Even if she believed she had a legitimate reason.

"And that it happened with _Toby Cavanaugh_," Peter continued, as though the words left a bad taste in his mouth. Glancing up, Spencer was insulted by the expression on her father's face; it was twisted and spiteful. Before she could say anything, however, he continued. "A boy who has been in trouble with the police for years –"

"No, he hasn't!" Spencer exclaimed, outraged by the heinous lie.

"Spencer," warned Veronica.

"But that not true –"

"A boy who blinded his stepsister after setting fire to his own garage –" Peter spoke over her, slightly louder.

"That was –"

"– caused your friend Emily Fields to go to the hospital with a severe head wound –"

"It wasn't a severe –"

"– and was charged with the murder of another of your friends, Alison DiLaurentis!" finished Peter, now shouting her down. He'd leapt to his feet, bright red with rage, flecks of spit flying from his mouth.

Spencer felt tinges of fear and intimidation but wasted no time in standing up, literally and metaphorically, to her father. "He did not hurt Alison," she told him, in no uncertain terms. Her voice was low and laced with steel.

"I don't believe that," Peter replied coldly. "It is not simply coincidence that he is involved in every single one of those incidents, Spencer. And I am not going to let you be his fourth victim –"

"Victim?" Spencer repeated, horrified. "I am not –" She froze, seeing the looks her parents were exchanging. A silent conversation was held within them, and she was terrified of the outcome. A cold ball had dropped into her throat, preventing her from further speech. She waited, struck dumb.

"You are forbidden from having any type of contact with him again," stated Peter, suddenly calm. "And you're grounded," he added, for good measure.

Spencer's mouth and eyes were wide open at the injustice. "What? No, you can't do that! Mom –" she turned to her mother, wildly appealing for help.

"This is not a discussion, Spencer," said Veronica, meeting her daughter's tearful gaze head on. "I agree with your father."

Spencer stood there, gaping, so angry she couldn't even speak. Her vision swam as her eyes clouded over and she wondered what on earth to do. She couldn't stay away from Toby, not now! Why couldn't they see that? Why couldn't they see how important he was? How much they needed each other?

"Give me your cell phone," said Veronica, her hand outstretched.

Spencer snorted derisively and headed for the stairs.

"Spencer, give it to your mother!" Peter ordered, blocking her way, his pupils so dilated his eyes were nearly black.

"You won't keep me from him," Spencer told him viciously. "Nothing will."

"We'll see," her father replied confidently.

A surge of helplessness rushed over Spencer as her mother divested her of her phone and she was sent to her room. The walls were closing in, the ceiling falling, the floors swallowing her whole. She looked for something to throw, spotted a picture of her with her parents, and hurled it at the wall. The crash of glass against plaster was horrifically satisfied and Spencer threw herself onto her bed, trying to control her breathing.

She stayed in her room all day, ignoring all calls for her to come downstairs for lunch and dinner. The last thing she felt able to do at that moment was eat. Her stomach had tied itself in a knot around her heart and she felt suffocated by everything around her. The sun was going down when there was a timid knock on the door. She didn't respond.

"Spencer, let me in," said Veronica. She sounded tired, possibly sorrowful? Spencer still didn't reply. Veronica tried the door, surprised that it was unlocked, and came in. She sighed deeply when she stepped on the broken picture frame.

"That was a tad extreme," she scolded without any real anger as she stooped and collected up all the pieces of broken glass carefully.

"It didn't feel extreme," Spencer replied, even if she was a tad ashamed of her tiny violent episode. Veronica placed the picture frame on Spencer's bedside table and sat down on the bed, reaching out to stroke her daughter's hair. Spencer flinched, and Veronica dropped her hand with a sigh.

"Honey, you're being very melodramatic right now," she chided.

Spencer agreed, but that didn't mean she was going to do so aloud. Instead, she lay there in utter silence, refusing to give her mother any kind of response. Veronica sighed again.

"I know that you're angry right now, but one day you'll be grateful that we kept you away from that boy. He's a bad influence."

"You don't even know him," sneered Spencer.

"And I don't want to," Veronica replied firmly. "I don't think it's a coincidence that you started accusing Ian of involvement in Alison's disappearance when you befriended Toby Cavanaugh –"

Spencer rolled over to face her mother, shocked out of her stony almost-silence. "You think Toby told me it was Ian?" she demanded, and Veronica looked at her with something she obviously intended to be understanding.

"You're infatuated with him. I understand, Spencer, but you have to realise how dangerous your situation is. You are being investigated by the police as we speak! What will they think if they hear about you and Toby?"

"I don't care," Spencer ground out through gritted teeth. "He was framed."

Veronica let out her third sigh and stood up, collecting the mess from the bedside table. She paused by the door as Spencer glared at her. "Spencer –"

"You're wrong about Toby, Mom. I hope you don't take too long to realise that," Spencer told her, sounding as though she pitied her mother. Veronica shook her head and left the room. Spencer curled up on the bed again, and fell into a troubled sleep, waking every few minutes, full of pent up energy and a fury that was quietly turning into fear.

**NB **Thank you for your amazing reviews and encouragement! =] I kind of couldn't resist turning this isn't a forbidden-love thing. The show seemed about to go down that road, but then didn't mention it again, so I decided I would lol. By the way, does anyone know what Toby's Dad's name is? I can't find it no matter where I look, and I don't really want to just invent a name. Anyway, hope you like this!


	4. Four

**Four**

Peter drove her to school the next day. She sat in the car, arms folded defiantly, and tried to look as though she weren't a sulking teenager. She knew she was failing, knew she was acting like one, but she was too angry to care. As they pulled up to the school, Peter grabbed her arm to stop her from running off.

"Here," he said, offering her the cell phone Veronica had confiscated the night before. Spencer snatched it from his hand. "Don't bother looking for Toby's number. We've deleted and blocked it."

Spencer narrowed her eyes at her father. "Gee, thanks," she commented sarcastically.

"Spencer," Peter halted her yet again. "I know you're feeling vulnerable because of the police, and that's probably why you're drawn to Toby Cavanaugh, but I think trusting him is a mistake you will live to regret. And I love you too much to let that happen."

He smiled at her, trying to offer an olive branch, and Spencer was tempted to accept it. To an extent, he was right, at least about feeling vulnerable and Toby being the only one around able to empathise. The rest was all wrong.

"I'm not a kid anymore," she replied, trying to keep all hostility from her voice. He wouldn't listen to her angry. "I'm old enough to be arrested for a murder I didn't commit. That means I'm definitely old enough to chose my friends. And make my own mistakes."

She climbed out of the car, closed the door gently, and walked away. Still angry, but acknowledging that anger wouldn't solve anything, she went to look for her friends. Emily, at least, would understand. All three were sitting together in the quad, heads close together, and looked round with identical expressions of concern when they saw her.

"Hey," greeted Hanna, hand outstretched to take Spencer's. "I called you last night. Why didn't you call me back?"

Spencer's eyes darkened as she sat beside Hanna and leaned forward to tell them everything that had happened the night before in a whisper. Aria and Hanna were shocked to learn that Toby had spent the night, leading to a brief recount of what had happened over the weekend so that they were completely caught up.

"Wow. Don't your parents know that forbidding your daughter to date someone only makes them want to do it more?" said Aria, lips curved up indicating that she was attempting a joke.

"Spence! I'm so happy for you!" Hanna exclaimed "Apart from the forbidden love thing, although that could be totally romantic. You're like Romeo and Juliet! Star-crossed lovers kept apart from feuding families."

Spencer snorted but was relieved neither of them had echoed her parents' sentiments. Emily smiled sympathetically.

"Do you want to call Toby on my cell?" she asked, and Spencer nodded instantly.

"If you don't mind –"

"Of course not," said Emily instantly. "What are friends for?"

Spencer smiled, relieved, as Emily got out her phone and handed it over. Hanna snatched up Spencer's after a moment, letting out a gasp of excitement, her eyes twinkling.

"I'll get Caleb to work his magic on this and unblock Toby's number. He can disable the GPS while he's at it," she added, "so your parents can't track you down while you have your secret rendezvous's. This is so awesome!"

She leapt up, a happy smile adorning her face at the opportunity to help her friend, and hurried away with a cute wave. Aria grinned at Hanna's optimism.

"She is one of a kind," Emily commented, and Spencer and Aria both nodded their agreement.

"Don't worry, Spencer," said Aria, comforting her friend the best she could. "We'll help you anyway we can. They won't keep you away from Toby."

Spencer smiled, trying to communicate how much their support meant to her in that simple gesture. "Thanks guys. Thank you so much."

She left her bag with them, trusting them implicitly, and headed into a corner, dialling Toby's number. She pressed the phone to her ear, waiting with bated breath as the phone rang once, twice, three times, oh no what if he didn't pick up, four times –

"Hey Emily," came Toby's familiar soft voice, and Spencer let out her breath in a rush.

"Hi, it's me," she replied.

"Spencer? What's going on? I called you yesterday," said Toby, his voice instantly tinged with concern that made Spencer shudder.

"My parents know that you stayed over on Monday," she explained, and heard Toby's sharp intake of breath. "Needless to say, they weren't very happy."

"So, are you grounded?" asked Toby, sounding resigned to her fate. "Because if you are, I'll come over and explain to your parents that I was the one who came round –"

"No, no, don't do that," Spencer said quickly. Too quickly.

Toby paused. "Spencer, what's going on?" he asked again.

She bit her lip, hoping that his feelings wouldn't be hurt by what she had to say. "They think you're a bad influence. They –" The bell rang for class to begin, and Spencer sighed. "I have to go. I'll explain it all later, ok?"

"Ok," said Toby in that guarded tone of voice she hadn't heard since she started tutoring him in French. "I'll speak to you later then."

"Bye." Spencer hung up, not feeling any better than she had before speaking to Toby. She'd hoped that he would say something to make her believe that her friends were right about this all being ok. She'd forgotten that Toby had been in a secret relationship before and it had ended catastrophically. What if he decided she wasn't worth the hassle of sneaking around? What if he decided he'd spent too much of his life guarded and wanted to be open about everything from now on, including who he was dating?

Spencer returned to the table Aria and Emily were standing beside and passed Emily's phone back to its owner.

"Did it not go well?" asked Emily with concern.

Spencer shook her head; not an answer but a denial of the question. "Let's get to class," she replied tiredly.

Over the course of the day, she decided to go and see Toby, speak to him in person, explain the entire situation, but that idea was shot to hell when school ended and she saw her mother waiting for her outside.

"I can't believe this!" she exclaimed angrily. "What do they think I'm going to do if I make my own way home?"

Aria raised an eyebrow. "Exactly what you were planning to do; visit Toby." Spencer glared at her, and Aria raised her hands apologetically. "Hey, I'm just saying."

Spencer groaned. She knew, but that didn't mean she liked it. Apparently, she was just predictable. Turning to Emily, Spencer grabbed her wrist. "Will you talk to Toby for me? Explain?"

Emily squeezed Spencer's wrist. "Of course I will. As soon as I get home."

Spencer nodded her thanks as Veronica walked towards the three of them.

"Good afternoon girls," she greeted with a smile far too wide. Spencer didn't reply, but Aria and Emily made polite greetings just as they'd been raised to. "I'm sure Spencer has told you what happened yesterday, and I would like to ask for you to help us keep her on the straight and narrow –"

"Mom!"

"– by keeping her away from Toby Cavanaugh," Veronica finished, ignoring Spencer's shocked gasp. She fixed her gaze on Emily. "Not that I can see that being much of a hardship for you, Emily, considering what Toby did to you at Homecoming."

"That was an accident, Mrs Hastings," Emily replied frostily.

Veronica looked slightly wrong-footed and turned to Aria, but didn't get a chance to speak as Spencer stormed away, not even saying goodbye to her friends, such was her fury. Veronica had no option but to join her, put off from continuing her speech by the distinctly chilly gazes the two other girls were giving her.

"Spencer, stop being so –" Veronica began as she climbed into the car.

"I can't believe you did that to me!" Spencer exclaimed. "That was beyond humiliating! That was – There aren't even any words for what that was!"

Veronica rolled her eyes as she began to head for home. "Really, Spencer. I thought you were more grown up than this."

Spencer scoffed in disgust. "Don't even try to pull the grown up card on me, Mom. I'm not the one being childish right now."

The statement seemed to silence Veronica. The rest of the drive was stilted and uncomfortable, and the moment the car pulled to a halt outside of the Hastings house, Spencer stormed into the house, slamming as many doors as she could simply to expend her frustration without breaking anything.

However, her anger dissipated quite quickly. She tried very hard to remember that her parents were trying to protect her, even if it was from the wrong person, and that they would apologise when they realised how wrong they were. Well, maybe they wouldn't apologise. They would just buy her something pretty.

Shaking her head, she moved to get her books out –

There was a shout from outside. "_Cavanaugh_!"

Spencer ran to the window and saw Toby standing on the lawn, turning to face Ian and Melissa, spilling out of the barn. Her heart simultaneously lifted and stopped beating. What was he doing here? Had Emily not spoken to him? Did he not understand why coming here was a bad idea?

She ran through the house. By the time she reached the lawn, her father and Ian were pushing Toby towards the road. He wasn't protesting physically, allowing himself to be shunted, but was talking very quickly to her father, and Spencer realised that he was trying to explain.

"Spencer!" Veronica reached for her daughter. She was standing a few feet away, as though shielding the pregnant, and for some reason tearful, Melissa. Spencer avoided her grasp as Toby's eyes found her. She ran forwards, shoving Ian away bodily.

"Dad, get off him!" she commanded with such authority that Peter was shocked into momentary stillness. The watching police had climbed out of their car, dressed as civilians, but with hands hovering over their belts as though debating whether to pull out their guns. Spencer grabbed Toby's hand and pulled him away from her family, towards the road.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed. "Didn't Emily talk to you?"

Toby nodded. "I thought that if I could explain …" he sighed as he looked back at her family. Peter had gotten over his shock and was walking towards them purposely, followed by Ian. "I guess I was wrong."

Spencer walked slightly faster, keeping them a few paces ahead of her father. With the police watching, she knew he wouldn't be able to touch Toby again, but Ian she didn't trust. Ian was psychotic enough to kill him.

"You should go home. I don't want you to get into trouble," Spencer told him as they hit the road. There, she stopped and faced Toby. "I'll take care of this, ok?"

Toby glanced over her shoulder, and then took her hand, squeezing it. "Ok. I'll be waiting," Toby promised, and Spencer smiled at him, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his.

A second later, her father's hands landed on her shoulders and pulled her back, away. He was glaring at Toby as he pushed her back towards her mother and sister. Ian placed a hand on her arm, trying to propel her in the same direction and Spencer slapped the hand away.

"Don't you dare touch me," she told him in a low, fierce whisper. Something passed across Ian's face, something ugly and brutal that hinted at what he'd done to Alison, and Spencer was momentarily petrified, her indignation turning into ice.

"You are not welcome here," Peter was telling Toby as this happened. The moment passed and Ian turned to face Toby, watching as the police hurried forwards. Without their guns. "If I ever catch you on my property again, I will have you arrested."

"Is there a problem here?" one of the officers asked, and Toby shook his head.

"No, sir. I was just leaving." Before he turned to walk away, Toby's eyes met Spencer's. A current of warmth was sent between them, and Spencer felt the ice left from Ian's expression melt instantly. She smiled at him sadly as he turned and left, head held high. He'd kept his temper, which was more than could be said for Ian and Peter, both of whom the police were looking at dubiously. The way they'd manhandled Toby, and the force with which Peter had pulled Spencer away from him worried them. Veronica stepped forwards, demanding to know what they were doing here in the first place, and they were distracted. Spencer took one look at her father's face and went back inside.

That Toby had come here, for her, to try and fix this for her, meant a lot to her. He'd been so worried that upon hearing Emily's words, he'd come straight over to try and fix this. The sight of him had done her wonders, and hopefully showed her parents that there was nothing they could really do to separate them.

Or, it might have just made them even more determined.

No one came up to speak to Spencer, not that she minded. They must consider her a lost cause, she surmised. Well, she definitely was. And there was no way she was going downstairs, not while Ian was anywhere close by. The reality of her accusations appeared to have only just hit her. Ian was dangerous, and in a more real way than she'd realised. He'd killed Alison, killed her, with his bare hands. What kind of person could do that? How could his brain work if he'd been able to choke that beautiful girl until she stopped struggling?

The morbid thoughts sapped Spencer of her good mood and she struggled to concentrate on her schoolwork, glancing out of the window every now and then at the spot she'd seen Ian's transformation only that afternoon, at the barn he was currently sharing with Spencer's pregnant sister, the barn Alison had left to meet him. It was a little too much to cope with. There was no safety here anymore.

The door was flung open and she turned to make her protests at the interruption, only to see it was Hanna, beaming triumphantly as she hurried into the room.

"You are going to love me," she told Spencer as she locked the door behind her and hurried to the bed, sitting down, and rummaging in her bed.

"How did you get my parents to let you up here?" asked Spencer, sure that after what had happened that afternoon her family would be putting bars across her windows and homeschooling her! They couldn't send her away at least, not while she was under police suspicion, but that didn't mean they would let her associate with her friends.

"I told your Mom I think she's right about Toby," said Hanna, quickly carrying on before Spencer could say anything. "I lied, basically. But think about it! If she thinks I'm going to keep you _away_ from Toby, then she'll be more willing to let you out with me. And then, I can sneak you over to wherever you're meeting him, keep watch, and return you safe and sound! It's a foolproof plan," Hanna proclaimed, beaming at her brilliant plan.

Well, it wasn't a complicated plan, but its simplicity meant that it might just work. Spencer didn't get a chance to process it, however, before Hanna found what she was looking for and pulled out Spencer's phone. Spencer hadn't even realised she didn't have it.

"Caleb said it was a rush job so he didn't get to do everything he wanted to, like upgrade your RAM or something technical like that, but he did unblock Toby's number and programmed it to ring under my name so your parents won't suspect a thing!"

Hanna handed the phone over, proudly. Spencer practically snatched it from Hanna, excited beyond belief. She could contact Toby again. Leaning forward, Spencer wrapped her arms around Hanna, hugging her tightly.

"Thanks Hanna," she whispered, and Hanna hugged her back.

"Happy to help," she replied as Spencer pulled back. "But I still can't believe you lost your virginity on the same night as me and didn't tell me," scolded Hanna, even though it was evident she didn't really mean it by the smile still on her lips. "So, come on. Tell me. We can compare."

Spencer laughed, her cheeks stained a light pink.

"It must have been nice to do it in an actual bed rather than on the ground," Hanna prompted, and Spencer shrugged. Honestly, she'd been so wrapped in the sensations, in Toby, in the wondrous moment that they could have been on the top of an active volcano and she wouldn't have noticed. By the fond reminiscent look in Hanna's eyes, it hadn't bothered her either.

"It's great to see you happy, Hanna," Spencer told her friend sincerely.

Hanna smiled back. "You too, Spence. That's why I want to help. I think we all deserve a little happiness after … well, everything."

They shared sad smiles. _Everything_ went as far back as Alison's disappearance. Knowing she was dead, knowing for sure and believing that Ian had killed her was somehow still easier than the constant wondering about whether Alison was alive or not, safe or not, laughing at them from a beach, or scared and alone in the dark. Spencer decided to visit the grave soon and lay some flowers. Expensive ones. Alison would want expensive flowers.

"All we need to do now is find someone for Emily and we'll be a foursome of couples!" Hanna exclaimed, moving on from the sombre interlude.

Spencer snorted. "Right. Except that Aria can't go outside with her guy because he'll be arrested; my parents will ship me off to Timbuktu if they find me with Toby; and Emily's mother sent her last girlfriend to rehab."

Hanna shrugged. "Minor complications," she said, brushing the matter aside. "Love conquers all!"

Spencer burst out laughing. She'd forgotten what a happy, loved-up Hanna was like, and remembering was wonderful. It truly was fantastic to see Hanna so happy and so determined to fix the lives of her friends so that they could share in her happiness. It gave Spencer hope for an uncomplicated future where the four of them were too happy for their own good and Alison could watch from heaven, laughing at their fairytales coming true.

Hanna left a little over an hour later, after cheering Spencer up immensely and making lewd insinuations about phone sex as her parting words. Spencer laughed as she pulled up Hanna's contact details on her phone, seeing the second cell phone number under Hanna's. She pressed call and waited eagerly.

"Spencer? I thought your parents blocked my number from your phone?" said Toby, sounding confused as he answered.

"Hanna's boyfriend sorted that out for me," Spencer replied, becoming even more jubilant at the sound of Toby's voice. "And she's got some sort of plan to help me sneak out and see you. Apparently, forbidden love is cool to her."

Toby chuckled darkly. "I wish I could agree." Spencer felt her happiness dip a little. "But I'm glad you called, Spencer," he added after a moment's silence. "I've missed talking to you."

Relieved, Spencer lay back against her pillows, relaxing. "Me too. What you did today, trying to explain to my parents' –"

"It was stupid," Toby interrupted. "I should have known nothing would come of it."

"But it meant a lot to me that you tried," Spencer spoke over him. She imagined Toby smiling, which she was sure he was doing. He was quiet for a minute, and Spencer listened to the sound of his breathing. He had something to say, and she was quite prepared to wait patiently.

"If you think that this is too hard, I completely understand," Toby finally murmured, calm and understanding if she agreed. Spencer said nothing. "But I just want you to know that as long as you want me, I'll be here for you. Nothing your parents or the police or anyone else can say or do will change that. I promise."

"Good," Spencer replied. "Because I think I'm going to want you for quite a long time," she assured him, and Toby's sigh of relief was audible over the phone.

When Spencer hung up a while later, she felt that Hanna was right; this was not insurmountable. As long as both she and Toby wanted each other, what could her parents really do? She settled down to sleep, suddenly aware of how tired she was. The past few days had utterly exhausted her, and she hadn't had a full night's sleep for a while. It felt good to be able to relax, to feel that things really would be better in the morning. She believed that right now, and it lulled her to sleep.

**NB **So, next time there will be more of Hanna's helping hand (I adore Hanna, and I loved her relationship with Caleb which is why I've conveniently written that whole Jenna-Caleb thing out) and the Cavanaugh's support the Hasting's decision. Plus, some Jenna blackmail. Sorry this one's taken a bit longer to update, I hope you like this though!


	5. Five

**Five**

"I really like that friend of yours. Hanna," Veronica commented the next day, as casually as she could. "She's got her head screwed on the right way."

Spencer didn't say anything. Whatever Hanna had told Veronica the night before, it appeared to have worked. Everyone had been singing her praises since the moment Spencer came down for breakfast.

She hadn't gone to school, on Peter's insistence. His theory was that having tried and failed to see her at home, Toby would go to the school instead. Veronica flitted in and out all day, partly to check up on Spencer, partly to update her on the ongoing situation with the police. That the search warrant could be thrown out was nice to know, but it didn't return the possessions the police had stolen, or the violation of knowing they'd been in her room, rifling through her things, ripping her privacy to shreds.

That injustice still hurt more than others.

Spencer spent the majority of the day upstairs, avoiding Melissa's poetic waxings about the magic of pregnancy. Aria called at lunch to send her their love, ordering her to stay strong in the face of adversity and other literary quotes she'd obviously borrowed from Ezra Fitz. Still, the sentiment behind them made Spencer smile.

She was forbidden to go for a run. She was forbidden to have any friends over, except for Hanna, who was busy with Caleb anyway. She was even forbidden from using her laptop in case she emailed Toby. It was tough to keep up her spirits when her defiance was being so stamped on, but she clung to the fact that at any moment, she could call Toby, hear his voice, and everything would be ok.

But it wasn't quite enough. Talking to him didn't make up for not being able to see him, touch him, see his smile instead of just imagine it. She went to bed resolute on seeing him the next day, with Hanna's help of course.

Her sleep was disturbed by a sliver of light falling onto her face, causing her to look round at her mother. Learning that the police had found something, found fibres, linking her to Alison's death, made Spencer physically nauseous. She forgot that her mother was trying to keep her away from Toby, was practically keeping her prisoner, and clung to her instead, as though she were a little girl all over again and Veronica's embrace could keep away the monsters that lived under her bed. She fell asleep out of pure exhaustion in her mother's arms, and was woken continually throughout the night by the ghost of sirens or the feel of steel across her wrists.

This could only mean one thing; they would be coming for her. They would arrest her. She was going to be arrested for Alison's murder and thrown into jail like a criminal, the way Ian deserved to be but instead it would be her and he would be free, raising a baby with Melissa, shaking his head with horror at what his wife's little sister had turned out to be.

She slept until late, too late to go to school, not that she wanted to, and stumbled downstairs to find her parents still at home and evidently waiting for her. Their expressions were ones of compassion and concern. Not a hint of accusation.

"How did you sleep?" Veronica asked with concern, stroking Spencer's face as soon as she came within touching distance. Spencer made a face and slid onto one of the stools beside her mother. Peter poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her.

"Spencer, we need to ask you some questions," he said gently.

"I didn't do it!" Spencer said instantly, and Peter let out a little laugh as he approached and put an arm around her.

"I know that, sweetie. I know. You loved Alison. You would never, ever hurt her," he soothed, and Spencer leaned into his touch. "But someone did hurt her, and they're trying to frame you. We need to find out who they are and we need to stop them before it's too late."

He meant, before she was put in jail. Spencer nodded. He was right. She needed to tell her parents whatever she could. Including A. It was A's trophy-trap that put her in this mess. Maybe the police could trace the messages she and the others were being sent? If they did that, then they would find the video of Alison and Ian, and she would be exonerated. She took a deep breath, preparing herself to tell them all of what had happened, every single thing she knew –

"How often has Toby been inside the house?" asked Peter gently.

Spencer frowned, wrong footed. Her mind still partially on A, she replied, "Only once, the night he stayed. I'm really sorry about that, I am, but there's something –"

"Are you sure?" Veronica pressed.

Spencer paused, looking between her parents. They looked worried, but she didn't understand why. In what direction were their thoughts going that they were asking about Toby? "Yes, I'm sure," she replied, confused. "Why? What's Toby got to do with anything?"

Veronica and Peter exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them, and it hit Spencer in an instant. She leapt from the stool, away from them, tears springing to her eyes.

"You think Toby planted those fibres, don't you?" she asked, horrified. "You think he's setting me up."

"It can't be a coincidence," said Peter quickly, as though he could make her see reason before she could stop him speaking such lies, "that the boy who was found in possession of that sweater is suddenly a part of your life. It isn't a coincidence that incriminating evidence is now in your room. He could have planted it –"

"No he couldn't! He'd never been inside this house before Monday, after the police searched my room! He didn't even know where my room was!"

"How do you know that?" asked Veronica. Her parents were walking towards her, bombarding her with questions, trying to sow the seeds of doubt in her fractured mind. "How did he get into your room, Spencer?"

"He climbed up the –"

"He climbed up to your window," said Peter with a self-satisfied smirk. "He could have climbed up at any other time and planted those fibres, Spencer, as his insurance. Or, when he found out you were a person of interest."

"No! Why would he do that?" Spencer tried to protest.

"Because then, he can blame you," said Veronica triumphantly. "He can say that _you_ planted the sweater in his room. He'll be exonerated, the victim, and you'll go to prison for a crime he committed –"

"No!" Spencer screamed, pressing her hands over her ears to block their hateful words out. She didn't believe it, not for a second. Toby wasn't like that. He would never do that to her, he couldn't! It was A who'd forced Spencer into this corner, the same way she forced Toby into one, playing sick and twisted games for enjoyment or revenge or whatever the hell this was all about! But not Toby. She didn't believe it. It made no sense, and she refused to believe it.

"Spencer," said Veronica, prying her hands away, her voice low and comforting. "We know that he's taken you in and that you must be feeling humiliated and embarrassed, but it's ok. He fooled you, but you must see now. You must –"

"You're wrong," Spencer replied, pushing Veronica away. "This isn't Toby. I know him, and this isn't him. You're wrong. You're wrong!"

She ran up the stairs, locked her door, and dialled Toby's number. It rang once before the line went dead. Fear gripped Spencer's heart. Why had he rejected her call? She didn't believe for a moment that he was responsible for the fibres in her room, but maybe … Maybe he believed that she had planted the sweater in the first place. Wasn't that what her mother had insinuated was the police's train of thought? That she'd framed Toby?

Well, she hadn't! And he hadn't framed her! An all-consuming anger grew in her stomach for A, wrecker of lives.

She didn't know that Toby had been woken by his father in a rage hours earlier, ordering Toby to get dressed immediately and join him in the kitchen. Toby did as he was told, remembering the last time he had been woken in such a manner; in prison.

Mr. Cavanaugh was pacing in the kitchen, his fury exuding from him like poison. Jenna and her mother were nowhere to be seen, Toby noted. The sky was only just turning grey. Maybe they were still asleep?

"You lied to me," Mr. Cavanaugh stated the moment he saw Toby. "You told me Jenna must have heard something else, and I believed you."

Toby said nothing, even though he was afraid. He knew better than to speak up, try to defend himself. He could say nothing that wouldn't incriminate himself in this situation.

"I just received a phone call from Spencer Hastings's father," Mr. Cavanaugh continued. "Apparently, you were in his daughter's bedroom all of Monday night. Weren't you?"

Toby bowed his head and lowered his eyes. The picture of remorse. He shouldn't have lied, he knew that, but at the time he couldn't see what benefit the truth would have brought. "I'm sorry Dad," he replied sincerely, and Mr. Cavanaugh snorted.

"Even if I believed you meant that, Toby, it doesn't change the fact that you _lied_." They stood in silence. "Have you ever stayed there before?"

"No, sir," Toby replied instantly. "Never."

"Are you telling me the truth?" Mr. Cavanaugh pushed, and Toby looked up, meeting his father's eyes unblinkingly.

"Yes, Dad. I'm telling the truth."

Mr. Cavanaugh sighed and sat down at the kitchen table. Toby followed his example. The atmosphere in the room continued to crackle, although Mr. Cavanaugh's rage had clearly abated. He took several deep breaths before looking up at Toby.

"The police searched the house before you stayed there. They can't blame you for this."

"Blame me for what?" Toby replied, confused.

Mr. Cavanaugh smiled. Genuinely. With relief. "The police found some fibres in some of Spencer Hastings's jewellery. The fibres match the sweater they found here; the one with the bloodstains." Toby stared at him. "Toby, do you know what this means? The only explanation for her having those fibres is if she had possession of that sweater at some point between Alison's death and it being found here. The police believe she framed you."

Toby's mouth fell open. "But … she didn't. She was one of the only people in the whole town who believed – believes – I had nothing to do with it."

"And she believes that because she knows it is true," Mr. Cavanaugh said confidently.

"No, sir, no," Toby protested. "She didn't plant that sweater. She's not like that."

Mr. Cavanaugh shrugged. "I don't really care, Toby. I don't care what she's like. Don't you see what this is? It's a gift! Of innocence! Proof that you are innocent!"

Toby didn't know how to respond. True, it was, but at what cost? Was that how this cruel world worked? Did his freedom come at the price of Spencer's? Why couldn't the police do their job properly and find the real killer? Why couldn't he and Spencer be free together, vindicated and left in peace?

"Whether you believe Spencer Hastings's is responsible or not is irrelevant," Mr. Cavanaugh said, sweeping the majority of the matter aside. "I want you to sever all contact with her."

Toby shook his head on impulse, a gut reaction. He would not abandon Spencer. His feelings for her were greater than any feeling he'd ever felt before. In just a few short days she had become the focus of all of his thoughts, the sun lighting up his life whenever they spoke. He couldn't stay away from her even if he wanted to. He felt drawn to her every second of the day, something dragging at his chest, urging him to walk and walk and walk until he could take her into his arms and keep her there for as long as it took to save her.

"Dad, I can't –"

"You don't have a choice, Toby," Mr. Cavanaugh told him, broking no argument. His eyes were flints and his heart, ice. He would not be moved, and his will felt like an iron whip slashing across Toby's back, forcing him into obedience. "If you continue this … connection, people may think that the two of you did this together. I will not let you pass up this opportunity for a girl."

He stood up, and Toby knew there was no point in arguing. He watched his father bustle around the kitchen, whistling as he made some coffee. It had been months since he'd last heard his father whistle. Actually, more like a year. Not since before Jenna's accident. That his potential exoneration had made his father so happy touched Toby, but he couldn't share the feeling. His life had been saved, but Spencer's had been condemned.

He retreated to his room rather than eat with the family, needing some time and space in which to think. He knew he couldn't abandon Spencer, that was the first thought in his mind. She'd searched him out and offered her support when he was chained to his porch and universally hated. Even if he'd hated her, he wouldn't be able to dismiss her after that act of kindness. And he definitely didn't hate her. He would never be able to hate Spencer Hastings.

A while later, as he continued to struggle to come up with a solution, there was a knock on his door. One he recognised, and ignored.

"I know you're in there, Toby," Jenna called out.

With a sigh, Toby walked up to the door and opened it, standing firmly in the way to prevent Jenna from entering. She tried, and bumped into him, her hands coming up to rest on his chest. He carefully removed them.

"What do you want, Jenna?" he asked. Her presence made him feel tired. Jenna's face turned towards his, and he resisted the urge to shudder. He had never quite got over what had happened to her. Her eyes had been so expressive, and to be faced with the sunglasses she barely took off always made Toby uneasy.

"Did you sleep with her?" Jenna asked in a low voice. Their parents were just down the hall, and Toby knew he should pull Jenna into his room to prevent their overhearing the conversation, but he'd vowed to never let her inside again. It was a vow he intended to keep, no matter what the cost.

"That's none of your business," he replied, not needing clarification on who Jenna was talking about. Jenna took that answer to be a confirmation and took a step back, her mouth quivering. She quickly got herself back under control.

"This ends now," she told him dangerously. "Whatever is going on between you and _Spencer_ –"

"You have no authority to tell me what to do, Jenna," Toby replied, cutting her off. "And there is nothing you can do to make me want you the way I want her."

He closed the door on her, ignoring her indignant gasp, and took a deep breath trying to calm himself down. Any encounter with Jenna always left him breathless with anger. However, she wasn't finished.

"If you touch her again, Toby, I will tell her about us," she hissed through the door.

Toby leant against the door and closed his eyes with a sigh. "Jenna, she already knows," he told her through the wood and heard the abrupt silence that statement was met with. There was no way Emily wouldn't have told her friends, and he'd seen the way Spencer reacted to the very mention of Jenna's name. She knew. They just hadn't discussed it yet. They would have to eventually, Toby knew, if they wanted this to last.

"Do her parents know?" asked Jenna maliciously.

Toby made no response. Another confirmation.

"I mean it Toby. You stay away from her, or I'll tell everyone that you forced yourself on me. Who do you think they'll believe?"

He heard Jenna walk away triumphantly, her cane tapping across the floor. The urge to punch a wall was one he could barely restrain. If it weren't enough that Spencer's parents had banned them from seeing each other, now his own family were getting involved too! For a moment, he wondered if this was fate's way of telling them that they were doomed, but then Toby remembered he didn't believe in fate. And if it was fate, then he'd prove everyone wrong. Giving up on Spencer would be selfish and cowardly, and Toby prided himself on being neither of those things.

His phone rang, and he saw it was Spencer. He rejected the call, knowing that he couldn't talk to her while his parents and Jenna were in the house. He would have to wait until they left, and in the meantime, decide what on earth he was going to do!

Hanna showed up after school, cheeks flushed healthily, and carrying a stack of school books. The first thing she did after dropping them on Spencer's bed was pull her friend into a comforting embrace that Spencer needed more than she would ever admit.

"A is a bitch," Hanna stated as a fact, and it made Spencer smile.

"You've got that right," she mumbled as they sat down on the bed, Hanna taking Spencer's hand and squeezing it supportively.

"I have something that might cheer you up," teased Hanna with a smile. "How would you like to spring this joint for a few hours and see your boy?"

Spencer didn't perk up as Hanna had expected. Instead, she looked even more depressed. "I tried to call him earlier and he rejected the call. I think he –"

"I'm sure he was just with his family or his psycho stepsister," said Hanna comfortingly. "He'll be thrilled to see you, trust me."

Spencer didn't look convinced, but Hanna sent her to her bathroom, ordering her to make herself even prettier while Hanna arranged everything. When Spencer emerged, it was to find Hanna waiting with a triumphant smirk on her face, flipping through one of the many magazines she never seemed to be without.

"Finally!" Hanna exclaimed. "Come on. Let's go."

"But what about –"

"Spencer, quit worrying! I have taken care of everything," Hanna soothed as she pushed Spencer out of the room. They descended into the living room, where Veronica and Melissa were sitting together, talking. The conversation stopped abruptly.

"Well, we're off out Mrs. Hastings," chirped Hanna, and Veronica smiled over at them.

"Have fun girls. Try not to be home too late," she called, waving goodbye.

Spencer shook her head as she and Hanna left the house. "Ok, whatever you said to my Mom, you have to tell me! If I could get on her good side like that, I'd be –"

"Melissa?" suggested Hanna cheekily, and Spencer pushed her away, giggling. "Come on, Juliet. Your Romeo awaits!"

Anticipation built in the pit of Spencer's stomach as they got into the car and Hanna drove away from the Hastings house. "What does my Mom think we're doing?" she asked.

"A girl's night," Hanna replied. "I tried to get you a free pass for the whole night, but that was a miracle too far so you'll have to make do with just a few hours."

Spencer would have been happy with a few minutes. She reached out and squeezed Hanna's shoulder, not really knowing what else to do to communicate her gratitude. They were heading, Spencer realised, for the motel she and Toby had spent their first night together at. Butterflies threatened to make her stomach burst.

"How's Toby getting there?" she asked.

"Emily's driving him," said Hanna. "And it was Aria who collected all your schoolwork for you, so today's been a real group effort," she teased. Spencer rolled her eyes, but texted Aria a thank you. If she was going to be trapped inside the Hastings house for the foreseeable future, having something to do was definitely necessary.

They pulled up to the motel. Spencer saw Emily's car was notably absent and she hesitated. Then, a door opened. It wasn't the room they'd shared last time, but what did that matter? It was still Toby standing in the doorway, smiling at her.

"Go," urged Hanna. "I'll pick you up later."

Spencer hesitated still. "What are you doing tonight?" she asked, and Hanna pointed to another room where Caleb was waiting, a suggestive smile on his face.

"We haven't had any time to be private since he moved into the guestroom," Hanna winked at Spencer as she climbed out of the car. "Go get yours, Spence, and I'll get mine."

Spencer burst out laughing as Hanna ran over to Caleb, and then turned to Toby. He opened his arms and she ran into them, resting her head on his chest with a contended sigh.

"Hi."

"Hey Spencer," he greeted, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I'm so glad you're here," Spencer told him. "I thought you might think that I set you up with the sweater and –"

"Of course I don't think that," said Toby as he ushered Spencer inside. She sat down on the bed and he joined her. "I could never think that about you, Spencer. Of course, my family are a different matter."

Spencer groaned, dropping her head into her hands. "Great, that's just great," she whimpered. "Your parents think I set you up, and my parents think you did the same thing to me."

Toby blinked with surprise. "They do?"

"I didn't believe a word of it –" Spencer began immediately, but Toby pressed a finger against her lips.

"I know you didn't," he soothed, and Spencer moved closer, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

"This is all so screwed up," she sighed, and Toby nodded his agreement. He lay back on the bed, and Spencer curled up against him. He stroked her hair gently, feeling the silky strands slide through his fingers. His touch burned a little as Spencer struggled inwardly, before taking a deep breath, partly for courage, and partly because she had something very important to tell him.

She spoke for an hour, maybe longer, spoke until her throat cracked and tears came to her eyes. He didn't move the whole time, and Spencer was convinced that the moment she stopped he would push her away and run as far as he could. So she kept talking, describing absolutely everything, and the suspicions that had been raised by it. She talked and talked and talked, and then Toby knew everything.

Toby knew about A.

He processed it all in silence, and a lot of things that had not previously made sense snapped into focus. Things he hadn't understood were now clear and obvious. Spencer's unerring honesty touching him, no matter how bad a light it painted her in. When she reached the present day, pausing to draw breath, he tightened his grip on her, silently telling her he was going nowhere, and felt her relax.

He repaid her honesty in kind, beginning long before Spencer had by telling her everything that had happened with Jenna in enough detail to make her shudder. Toby didn't spare her the more gruesome arguments, the threats Jenna had made, and his continuous submission to her whims despite his better judgement. He described the fire and the aftermath. He talked of reform school and returning to Rosewood, free but trapped. Then there was Emily, and the mess of Homecoming, and then he'd been on the run. Prison. Bail. The horror of being a prisoner in his own home.

And then, Spencer. Toby's voice notably changed when he talked about her, it became happier and lighter and richer. He began to subconsciously play with her hair again, twisting and untwisting a few strands as he described his more recent life, some of which she'd witnessed herself, but hearing it from Toby's point of view was fascinating. Spencer decided that once science had made the necessary technology, she would climb into Toby's head and live there, examining his thought process that made him exonerate all others from wrong doing. Even Jenna and Alison.

Rose tinted glasses to the extreme, and yet Toby wasn't naïve. He knew too much.

It was dark by now. Their time was running out. They lay in silence for a moment after their long confessions.

"I wish we could stay here forever," Spencer murmured. "I wish we could stay together."

Toby nodded. He felt exactly the same, and was trying to think of a way to make that happen. Apart from finding the real killer, very little else was occurring to him. He needed to save Spencer and their relationship in one fell swoop, but how? His inability to come up with a plan frustrated him.

There was a knock at the door. Hanna. Spencer groaned, and sat up. "I'll be out in a minute," she called, heard Hanna's acknowledgement, and then looked round at Toby. He was staring at the ceiling, glaring at it, concentrating fiercely.

"Toby –"

"I promise I'll think of something," he stated as he sat up, meeting her gaze. "Something other than running away like I did."

Spencer giggled. She stroked Toby's cheek and kissed him, swept up in an immediate electric current which made her wonder why they had wasted time talking when they could have been doing _this_! Toby kissed her back just as strongly, pulling her impossibly close the way he had when she showed up at this very motel to find him a few days earlier. He kissed her as though he may never do so again, a possibility which chilled their bones.

Finally, Spencer pulled away with a whimper. She had to leave. There was no more time.

"We'll do this again," she promised. "Soon. Tomorrow!"

Toby nodded. "I'll be here," he vowed, and watched Spencer run outside. He fell back onto the bed and rubbed his face, willing himself to have an epiphany as soon as possible.

**NB** - Sorry again for this taking longer to upload, but the chapter's are significantly longer than the ones I usually write. But don't worry, my inspiration for this is even stronger with the premiere of the second season of PLL's only a few weeks away! =] So, do you guys like this? Reviews are gold! =]


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